


Ood Sigma and the Renal Nodes

by TheTimelessChild0



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: COVID-19, Coronavirus, Desperation, Detox, Embarrassment, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Post-Season/Series 12, Sick Doctor, Urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24595276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/TheTimelessChild0
Summary: The Doctor should've had her shots alongtime ago.
Kudos: 8





	Ood Sigma and the Renal Nodes

_She wished it didn’t make sense_. Unfortunately, it did. 

The day started with just a sneeze. A sniffle here and there. She’d given her mates a vaccine from the 200th century as soon as it came on the news. So her humans were safe. She, however, was not. 

After enough coughing, Yaz had managed to convince the Time Lord..lady..-less child..whatever, to go to bed for the day. 

***************

After a few hours of sleep, the Doctor woke up, to an aching hip. 

Her first instinct was that it was her ecto-spleen, inflamed or something. There was a butterflies-like sensation where she presumed the organ was, inside her resettled gut. 

She poked it. “Shut up! It’s just an Earth virus, we’ve dealt with that before,” she chastised herself, stretching and rolling onto her back. 

* * *

The Doctor woke up, not realising anything had been changed. She felt a measure better, evident by her full bladder. 

_Well, that explains how my fever went down.._ she remarked to herself, walking to the toilet. 

She was half right. In her sleepy haze, she didn’t notice the colour in the bowl.

Instead, the Doctor checked her closet for her usual clothes, now that she had “recovered”, but there was only a polo shirt and shorts, both decorated with question marks. 

“What’ve you done with my clothes?!” she whined at the TARDIS. 

Instead of responding, the TARDIS merely poked at her brains insistingly. 

The Doctor shrugged, putting on a different outfit once again. 

She entered the console room, already sulking. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” Yaz greeted, closing her book. 

“I didn’t sleep that long did I?” she questioned, tilting her head and wrinkling her nose. 

“Well, it _is_ 1 o’clock in the afternoon. Depends on how you define long inside a time machine,” 

“Where’re the others?” the Doctor asked. 

“Ryan and Graham both went to help Aaron fix some of his microwave ovens,” Yaz explained. “You’re not well anyhow, where you thinking of going in that state?”

“I’m fine! Fever’s down,” she argued. 

Yaz put a hand to the Doctor’s forehead. 

“Yep, and now you’re freezing cold. Come on, I’ll get some blankets, cuppa hot cocoa, it’ll be a totally normal, not-related-to-you AT ALL cuddle day,” Yaz invited. “Nice shirt. Mysterious. Very you”. 

“Just because my clothes are gone, and I can’t save planets in this,” the Doctor surrendered. 

  
  
  


The Doctor got through half the cocoa in three sips. 

“How do you not burn your tongue? Take it easy,” Yaz implored, touching her shoulder.

“Last body ate nothing but Chinese food for like 3 months. Spices made this mouth strong. But you’re right. Got to _savour_ it. Mm chocolate,” the Doctor slowed down, sloshing it around her mouth, coating every tooth in the flavour. 

Immediately after swallowing, the Doctor felt her stomach get heavy. She was pretty sure she wasn’t lactose intolerant, so she didn’t think it was that. And fluid doesn’t take up a lot of space. 

_Wait_ . She realised it wasn’t in her stomach. It was much lower. _No. bloody. way._

She shifted in her seat, stretching her legs to appear normal. 

“You alright? Need another pillow?” Yaz asked immediately. The Doctor’s legs were short, so stretching them shouldn’t be necessary, the couch was more than tall enough, and the cushions too wide for her legs to hit the ground, at least at that moment while they were both slouching. 

“I’ve got it, thanks,” the Doctor said, grabbing one of the larger, clumpier _side_ pillows. All she needed was pressure in her lower back, she resolved. _Then I can ignore it_. 

It didn’t make a _Huon particle_ of sense. She went to the loo that morning. Barely a few hours ago. 

****************

The next few minutes had the Doctor bobbing subtly in her seat, even when the scenes on the telly were plain and boring. At least, from Yaz’s point of view. So the human let it slide. But then, the alien began fiddling with the material of her trousers. When a hand went between her legs, it could no longer be explained away. Yaz paused the film.

  
“Doctor..do you need the loo?” 

“No thanks, I’m alright” the Doctor insisted, looking away to hide how red her face got at the question.

“You’re sure? I don’t mind waiting on you,” Yaz assured her. 

“I’m fine, Yaz,” she snapped. “Sorry..just play the film,”

Yaz narrow her eyes. Her friend was never..okay, _rarely_ grumpy. The worst she’d gotten around them, was after she saw her planet in flames. Again. 

Nevertheless, she clicked play. And clicked play again. It wouldn’t start. She looked at the remote with confusion. 

The Doctor crossed her fingers, that it was a glitch, and not the TARDIS. Even if it was a glitch, long enough silence would make the TARDIS impatient. After all, the Doctor had a history of _waiting_ for unhealthy amounts of time. The Laws of Time were hers, but the laws of nature were _not._

The TARDIS made a rumbling ringing noise, like a vibrating phone. 

“What’s that about..?” Yaz wondered, waiting patiently for a telepathic message. But none arrived. Not in _her_ head anyway. 

_‘You heard what she said. She doesn’t mind.’_ The TARDIS reminded the Doctor. 

_NO._ the Time Lord refused.

Yaz noticed the Doctor had her legs up on the sofa now. 

“Doctor. It’s just over there. It’s really alright. Go on!” she implored the alien, standing up and leaning on the arm of the sofa. 

The acceptance, and lack of questions comforted the Doctor. She got up, bending over suddenly, putting her hand back between her legs for a moment. 

“Right, I’ll just be a minute then,” the Doctor excused herself, running to the door. 

The clothes were a big help, allowing her to simply pull down both trousers and underwear and ended up on the seat, perfectly placed for a _pee_ , within seconds. 

Outside, the ship had put on some music, distracting the human from the entire previous conversation.

The Doctor rolled her eyes, as she wiped. A single glance behind her as she dropped the toilet paper and stood up, revealed something shocking. Her urine was pink. Which was _not_ natural. Her current regeneration had turquoise/cyan urine. 

She shook her head as she exited the bathroom. 

“Okay, you might have a point about me being ill,” the Doctor admitted, tilting her head. 

“How come?” Yaz asked, patting the empty spot on the sofa casually.

“I already went to the loo, this morning. You remember what I said about my biology?..” the Doctor indicated. 

“Once every three days. Not three hours...huh,” 

“Weird colour too,” she frowned. 

“Maybe there’s something in the library about it. You had an actual doctor on board didn’t you?” Yaz asked. 

“Yeah, Martha Jones. I also did a course on medicine at the Academy on Gallifrey. I don’t call myself the Doctor just to sound smart, I’m thoroughly qualified,” the Doctor rose from her seat. “I think I still have the textbook,” she mentioned.

* * *

They successfully located the relevant book: _Anatomy Almanac of Shobogan Ancestors._

The Doctor flipped to the page about diseases. The foreword was highly enlightening. 

_Note that not all diseases are the kind that must be endured through a mere immune response. Milder conditions, such as those caught from humans, are dealt with through additional lymph nodes, colloquially referred to as ‘circulating nodes’, based on their function. The causative agent is led out of the body using multiple exit strategies based on where the body is affected, and what area is closest to the active node. I.e if the problem is in the stomach, it may be led through the body through the colon, gas or otherwise. If the problem is in the lungs, however..simple sneezes won’t do as they put a strain on the capillaries and respiratory bypass. Thus, the byproducts are directed to the kidneys, and expelled using a simple detox._

“You have got. to be kidding,” the Doctor echoed her ninth self, but was too annoyed to notice. 

“CoVID is respiratory..after your bypass shorted out, a detox was triggered,” Yaz understood. 

The Doctor nodded. “I hate those ruddy detoxes. Never have enough time to _deal_ with them,” 

“What about right now? There’s nowhere you need to be,” she pointed out. 

“Ugh...I get that. I just hate needing to _go_ in front of you guys,” the Doctor muttered. “Hate being so...human. No offence,” 

“None taken. You look like us for a reason. It’ll be fine. It’s a big ship. You can slip of plenty of times while we’re not around,” Yaz assured her. 

“I’m not gonna hide in my room forever. That didn’t do me any good last I tried,” the Doctor shrugged and scoffed. 

“Doctor.” Yaz put her hands on the alien’s shoulders. “The Time Lords are gone. And even if some aren’t, they didn’t treat you in a way that mean you need to follow their bollocks rules a light-year longer. This doesn’t degrade you. It brings you to our level. And..even if it goes further than that, that’s natural too. You know about _breaking the seal_ , don’t you?” she asked. 

“ _Ooh_ yeah _..._ the _heck_ I _do,_ ” the Doctor confirmed, leaning into the half-hug. 

“Thanks, Yaz,” 

“What did you mean by that?” Yaz smirked mischievously. 

“Nothing. Nothing at all, I think I’ve had enough of a chat about _wee_ for today,” the Doctor shot her down immediately. 

* * *

Graham and Ryan entered the TARDIS, putting away tools in random empty roundels along the wall. 

“He’s not even posh, it doesn’t make any sense,” Ryan complained. 

“Well, he _is_ a businessman. Being too direct could put off his customers,” Graham reasoned. 

“What are you talking about?” the Doctor asked, curiously. 

“They’re not. They’re arguing,” Yaz stated, as if it was obvious. 

“We are having a friendly discussion,” Graham defended. 

“Me dad still doesn’t use actual words when he needs the toilet,” Ryan explained. 

“Hey, I reckon it could be worse. Doc used to be a real shy guy, didn’t ya, Doc?” Graham implied. 

“Graham..you don’t have to answer that,” Yaz interrupted. 

“Hey, it’s fine. I don’t mind. Yes, I was. I had a _scale_ , where I’d _rate it_ , you know, based on how ‘bad’ it was,” the Doctor admitted easily. “She’s trying to keep you out of the loop. Why, I don’t know,” she noted. 

“Out of the loop bout what?” Ryan asked, intrigued. Usually, it was the Doctor keeping secrets about herself. Not Yaz keeping them. Either all or _none_ of them knew something. 

“Firstly, that nap did me the world of good. _Again_ ,” the Doctor explained, harking back to their first encounter. 

“Secondly, the reason why it did me the world of good was because it gave my body time to trigger a detox,” 

“What kind of detox?” Graham queried. 

“You know how you drink a lot of water before or after you drink, to flush out the alcohol faster?” the Doctor asked, stroking the question marks on her shirt awkwardly. 

Graham nodded. 

“Well, instead of _flushing out_ Corona the _beverage_ , I need to flush out Corona the virus,”

“Oh. So like _breaking the seal_ ,” Graham suggested. 

“Eh..close but not quite. Basically my kidneys absorb all the bad cells after my immune system kills them, and also absorb bonkers amounts of _water_ to send them out the front exit,” the Doctor was blushing now, but still smiling confidently. 

“Ah, so it wasn’t activated by you _going_ , and it doesn’t end with you dehydrated,” 

“No, my body takes care of that. It will be useful for me to keep drinking regularly though,” she stated. 

“What did you mean, before? When you said, you knew about _breaking the seal_? Does it happen to Time Lords?” Yaz asked, seeing her chance. 

“No. We can’t even get drunk unless we choose to. But I did experience something that _wasn’t_ a detox, but did have me slashing buckets,” the Time Lord clarified. 

“Was it a diuretic?” Graham guessed. 

“No..I wish. I did get drunk, but the whole _breaking seal_ thing doesn’t happen. Failsafe against dehydration remember,” the Doctor replied. “I just drank ridiculous amounts of wine. If I’d had water instead the same would’ve happened.”

“Bloody hell, how many?” Yaz’ eyes went wide. 

“Probably about 9,” she stated. “I realised it happened but kept drinking. It was in Versailles, it’d be rude..and a waste of _really_ good wine,” 

  
  
  


They all spent the day in, watching the telly. The Doctor dozed off a few times, from the blankets. Her fam pretended not to notice the squid-like stuffed animal suddenly appearing on her shoulder. 

She awoke once more, this time wriggling her way into the sheets, taking them off her shoulder. She checked her temperature. It was evening out. 

The Doctor picked up her custard cream milkshake, taking a big sip while taking a pill. 

“You know, I visited a planet called Bitter Pill once,” she grumbled. 

  
“Was it nice?” Graham asked sincerely. The Doctor laughed. 

“No. It had the Devil, a black hole, lots of creepy Ood,” she waved her plushie to illustrate. Then she began wriggling even more. 

“You know, my old mates, who were married, the Ponds, brilliant amazing wonderful Ponds, once found one on the loo, which is where I need to be,” the Doctor excused herself, getting up. She instantly fell to the floor, wrapped up in her blanket. 

“Aw, for Rassilon’s sake,” she continued in Gallifreyan, which the gang guessed because it wasn’t translated. 

They could also guess _why_ that was…

Yaz and Graham got up, and started wrangling it off her. But it was difficult because she kept moving against their tugging. 

“Ooh, not that part!” the Doctor whined, trying to get a hand near her crotch, but there was fabric in the way. 

“Oh boy, I _really_ need the toilet,” 

“Try to roll out of it,” Graham suggested. She did this, and it worked. 

“I’m starting to see why people donate their spare kidneys. She’s got 4,” Ryan remarked. 

*********************

One more pill and two more glasses of water, and I was Graham’s turn to relieve himself. It hadn’t been that long, but the Doctor needed to go too. This time there was no _snag_ , no purposeful delay, just a totally natural dash to the loo. 

The Tardis placed the open toilet door right outside the living room. 

  
“Thanks, luv,” she whispered to her ship. 

* * *

Eventually, after many more glasses of water, and trips to the loo, the colour and temperature settled back. Right in time for bed-time. 

“How come you always go before bed, even on days you obviously don’t need to yet?” Yaz couldn’t help asking, bringing back the wayward Ood Sigma. 

“I used to forget the days,” the Doctor answered simply, putting on her nightgown.

“So? That’d just mean needing to go worse in the morning,” 

“I also used to have nightmares,” the Doctor clarified. “Better safe than soaked,” 

************

The Doctor woke up, feeling strangely comfortable. A small pressure corrected her optimism. 

She sat on the toilet, fully prepared for another round of urination, again a normal colour. 

But instead, the pressure seemed to have moved. An adjustment in which muscle was squeezed, solved the problem. 

She took several large sips of juice at breakfast. 

“Pleased to not have to use the toilet for several days?” Graham noted, chuckling.

“Yeah, though who knows when the 3-day count started,” the Doctor replied. 

“What do you mean, won’t it be at night again?” Yaz questioned, confused.

“No. I went again this morning, but I don’t know whether it was because normal hydration patterns were restored in my sleep or not. If so, it could be either night _or_ morning, or even in the middle of the night,” 

“I’ll get the pillbox,” Graham stood up. 

“You will NOT.” the Doctor protested, spitting out air in disgust. “Custard creams have to get _out_ as well,” 

“Well, then I’d say the rehydration happened after your last glass of water. Then you had to get out some of that glass and some of the last half before that..the water saved from your bed-time bathroom break, went into your gut. So yeah, uncertainty. At least you’ve only got us around next time, so it’ll be alright. Right?” Yaz smiled. 

“Correctamundo..ugh I hate that word. Yeah...as long as I can find somewhere to hang my coat up,” she agreed, chugging down another glass of juice. 

It was the first time in a long time, that she didn’t care if she was in a forest _or_ at UNIT, needing to go. Or in front of Agatha Christie. Or Shakespeare. 

**The Doctor and the TARDIS continued listing circumstances where she’d speak up.**

**THE END.**


End file.
